


A Red Flame

by squeaks



Category: Marvel
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5762374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squeaks/pseuds/squeaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A box. A phone number. Both sent to Maria’s hotel room, signed with the initials NR.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Red Flame

Her voice bounced dully back to her against the glass as she wondered how long she had been chasing down a vague Natasha. Two minutes, three?  

“Is there something you’re not telling me Romanoff?”

“There are few things I do tell you Maria.”

The Deputy cocked her head backwards in exasperation, watching a grey Paris from the shut walls of her suite. Her fingers twanged the phone cord against the window as she wondered _where_ she was calling.  

“I don’t need you checking in on me”

“I’m checking on the mission” a voice swiftly corrected. Maria easily picked out the hint of tease there. She smirked.

“By sending me tight black dress and demanding my company? You’re lacking that slight professional touch” she patronized.

“You know I prefer talking face to face”

“And you know I can’t share the details on this one” Maria pressed, almost feeling bad about it. “Are you in the city?”

There was a slight pause from the other end, making Maria strain to catch any background noise. An airport announcement, a hotel bell pinging? But Romanoff was back shortly after.  

“Yes. I’ve been put on as your security detail as of five hours ago” a smug voice informed her. It wasn’t often that Natasha had the chance to update Maria on work matters.  

It definitely caught Hill’s attention.

“Really, you? What are the chances” she dryly mused.

“The chances were slim. I volunteered” a voice clipped. “Put on the dress, I’ll be there in twenty” she commanded, effortlessly breezing with confident authority even when phoning in with her CO.

Maria grinned, a laugh catching her off guard as her eyes followed tiny cars along criss-crossing the streets.

“What aren’t you telling me Romanoff?” she demanded, her interest peaked as the reflection of the box faded into view, dark fabric spilling over the brims.

“Get dressed Hill” a soft voice murmured. There was a challenge set in her tone. 

The line cut.

 

From across town Natasha slipped _Nicole Patterson’s_ burn phone into the nearest bin, hailed a taxi and tugged _Nadine Rousseau's_ dress into place. It was this transition between one job and the next that was usually the most interesting. Usually. 

“Hôtel Pavillon De La Reine, merci” she purred, slipping into the back.

“l'adresse Madame?”

“Vingt-huit Place des Vosges.”

As the driver took her to Maria her fingers daintily pulled every lock of hair into place, twisted every ring and bracelet so they sat perfectly against her porcelain skin.

She felt stiff and nervously wondered if Maria would wear the dress.

Something inside her fluttered then sank heavenly at the image.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm more down for a Maria Hill with a sharp energy who lives in three pairs of black boots and looks like she cut her short hair in the bathroom mirror. Even then I'd bet she'd get sapped into swapping dress shirts for dresses when told to by a bossy redhead. 
> 
> Not sure if there'll be more to this, it was a spur of the moment thing. Hope you liked it.


End file.
